


Borrowed Time

by DaughterofElros



Series: Choice Beyond Control [2]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Established Nick/Juliette, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterofElros/pseuds/DaughterofElros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Nick is conflicted, Eddie makes him face it, and sex is both the problem and the solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Borrowed Time

Nick’s been having a hell of a time concentrating. It’s irritating, and noticeable- Hank has already made a couple of jabs about it. Nick is just grateful that they haven’t caught a new case yet, because he’s afraid that in the mindset he’s in, he’d make a rookie mistake and end up botching it. On the other hand, maybe he should be praying for a case as a distraction, because sitting at his desk all day doing paperwork makes it really hard to avoid thinking about the way his life is falling apart.

He cheated on Juliette. That’s fucked up in and of itself, because she’s _the one_ , the girl he plans on spending the rest of his life with (provided he doesn’t end up being killed by some nightmarish fairy tale monster next week). They’ve gone ring shopping, for Christ’s sake. The fact that he cheated on her with a man is a little bit harder to wrap his head around. The fact that that man was Eddie, who in the past few months has become one of his closest friends is worse, and the fact that Eddie is a Blutbad and technically someone that Nick is destined to be killing takes the whole situation far, _far_ beyond fucked up.

The worst part, of course, is that being with Eddie was the best sex he’s ever had. Like one of those damn Claritin commercials where everything is soft and muted and pretty until you see the world in brilliant crisp color and think, ‘So that’s what I’ve been missing’.

Nick clenches his teeth, because he doesn’t want to be thinking this, yanks another file in front of him. He is _going_ to stop thinking about this, even if it fucking kills him. He looks up as Wu drops off another stack of folders at his desk.

“Thanks” he says drily, and Wu grins.

“Hey, it’s the glamorous life of a Homicide Detective, right?” Wu responds, enjoying this just a little too much. “By the way- there’s some guy named Monroe here in reception saying he’s here to see you.”

Nick’s heart stutters, and he hopes to God that Wu is pulling his leg, but no such luck. He can see Eddie weaving his way through the maze of desks. What the fuck is he doing here? He nods his thanks to Wu and braces himself for a confrontation with Eddie.

For his part, Eddie looks completely at ease, strolling up to Nick’s desk and plopping into the crappy extra chair. He places a box on the desk.

“Your watch.” Nick must look as confused as he feels, because Eddie sighs. “Obviously, I needed some sort of pretext to get in here.”

“Why _are_ you here?”

“Because it’s been a week, and we need to talk. Look, I understand needing your space and all,” Eddie says easily, “But you haven’t even returned my calls.”

“So you took that as an invitation to show up where I _work_?”

“Well, I debated showing up at your house, but I thought that might get a little more complicated” Eddie retorts.

Nick is at a loss. Hank is going to be back from lunch any minute now, and he’s going to recognize Eddie, want to know why he’s here, and he doesn’t want to have to think up excuses.

“Fine.” He snaps, shoving himself to his feet and snatching his coat from the back of the chair. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Wherever everyone I know isn’t.” is Nick’s terse reply.

They end up in a Mom and Pop Coffee place three blocks from the station. The lunch rush is mostly over, and they manage to snag a booth far enough away from the other customers that they’re unlikely to be overheard. Eddie waits for the waitress to bring them coffee and ice water before he starts in.

“Okay, so… spill.”

“Me? You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

Eddie shrugs.  “We had something the other night, it was awesome, now you’re avoiding me. Your turn.” He dumps a packet of sugar into his coffee.

“We didn’t have ‘something’ the other night. What we had the other night was… _sex_.” Nick is practically whispering. “Which is kind of a big deal for a number of reasons, many of which are summed up by the fact that I have a girlfriend.”

“You’ve been thinking of ending things with her for weeks.” Eddie says bluntly. Nick stares at him in disbelief. He’s not sure where to start with that- How the hell could he know that when Nick wasn’t even ready to admit that to himself? Even so, how did that make it remotely okay to sleep with someone else? What did Eddie expect him to say to that? Before he was able to tease out how he wanted to respond, Eddie barreled off in a new direction.

“Incidentally, I notice you’re not refuting the ‘awesome’ part.”  

Nick just…deflates. Because the truth is that it’s not Eddie he’s mad at, it’s himself, and being this close to Eddie again, he’s remembering how it felt to kiss him, to have that beard scrape against his skin. Remembering how incredible those hands that are currently curled around the coffee mug felt on his body, on his cock. Remembering the sounds that Eddie made when Nick sucked at his collarbone. Just being crammed into a booth with the man, he’s turned on. And there’s no way that Eddie doesn’t know- he’s a Blutbad- he can probably hear Nick’s heart beating too fast or smell the arousal on him or something.

It’s all too much. If he doesn’t get out of here now, he’s going to end up doing or saying something stupid, something he regrets. So he jumps up, fishes some bills out of his wallet for the coffee he hasn’t touched, and mumbles something about calling Eddie later before he makes a dash for the door. He registers the surprised expression on Eddie’s face and feels bad about it, but in that moment he just cares more about making his escape.

Outside, he ducks into an alley to make a shortcut back to the station, but hears footsteps behind him. Great. Eddie has followed him. He’s calling out to him, sounding desperate and apologetic.

“Nick! Nick, hold on. Look, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were that upset by it.” Nick turns around, lets Eddie catch up to him. “I mean, I knew you were upset, yeah, but not- you know- storm out of a restaurant upset.”

 Nick has this feral gleam in his eye that suddenly makes Eddie remember that while Blutbaden are definitely hunters, Nick is the one who hunts them. He’s coming closer, and Eddie really isn’t sure what he intends to do, so Eddie keeps talking. “If you want, I can just…” he’s cut off when Nick reaches out, grabs his sweater, and damn near throws him against the brick wall.

Then Nick’s lips are on his, demanding and desperate, and Eddie is fine with this. More than fine with this. He’s ecstatic, because he’s been waking up to remnants of dreams like this for the past week, and the real thing is sweeter than the fantasy could ever be.

The leather of Nick’s jacket when he pulls him closer is soft and supple, the perfect counterpoint to the forcefulness of their kiss. Eddie’s not exactly a submissive kind of guy, and there’s a part of him that wants to take over, turn Nick against the wall and thrust into him. The rest of him though, the part that has control, is oddly at peace with this, letting Nick take the lead and direct how this goes.

It’s disappointing when Nick drags himself away, his eyes a little wild.

“Fuck. I- I didn’t mean to… I lost control. I’m sorry.”

 Eddie understands all about losing control.

“I have to get back to work.” Nick continues. Eddie doesn’t want to let this chance slip away entirely.

“Look, it’s okay. Come by my place after you get off work.” He says, striving for a reasonable tone. “We’ll talk. I promise I’ll respect whatever decisions you make. I just… don’t think we should ignore this completely.”

“I’ll think about it.” Nick says, in a tone that brooks no promises. And then he turns, and is gone. Eddie watches him walk away until he turns the corner, heading back to the police station. Only then does he fish the keys out of his pocket and head for his Bug.

 

He has no intention of going over to Eddie’s after work. He plans to go out and grab a drink with Hank and some of the guys and be home in time to cook dinner with Juliette. He even texts to tell her he’s going out for a drink. It’s been a long day though, and by the end of it, he just wants to go home. He makes his excuses to the guys and heads for his car.

Just after the halfway point of his drive, he gets stuck at a stoplight that takes an eternity to change. The intersection isn’t a large one, but it’s important nonetheless. If he turns left, he’ll be heading to Eddie’s. If he goes straight, he’ll be home in five minutes. The light turns green. Nick turns left.

He climbs up the stairs to the porch pretending that he still has a chance to change his mind and turn around, as if Eddie can’t already hear his footsteps. He won’t just swing open the door though. He’ll wait for Nick to knock, let it be Nick’s decision, because Eddie is good like that. He knocks.

Eddie lets him in, and Nick pointedly does not look up the stairs. He does not think about the last time he climbed them, backwards and stumbling and trying not to be separated from Eddie for even a second.

Eddie has a bottle of wine open on the table, a glass already poured for himself. There’s another glass set out for Nick.

“Do you want some?” he asks. “It’s a 4000 meters pino. Organically grown 14,000 feet up the mountains of Italy’s Valle D’Aosta. It’s very good.”

“Sure.” Nick says, more for something to do than because he really wants the wine. Taking a sip from the glass that Eddie hands him, he has to admit that it _is_ pretty good. Light but grounded with maybe a hint of nutmeg. He savors it, takes another sip. He wonders if they’re actually going to talk, or if he’s going to be spared and they’re just going to pretend that last week and earlier today never happened. A tiny part of him wonders if he wants that as much as he thinks he does. As it turns out, he’s not that lucky. Eddie takes a breath and plunges right in

“So. Last week. I got beat up, you kissed me-”

“You kissed me too, okay.” Nick interjects defensively.

“… we kissed, and we had sex, you slept over, and then left before the sun came up.” He cleared his throat. “Now, I’m no swooning damsel or anything, but I just want an idea of what’s going on.” He pauses, giving Nick a chance to speak, but Nick has no idea what to say. “So I thought maybe it was a fluke, or…something. I thought maybe you were repulsed by what we’d done. So I called. A couple of time. And then I went to the station. From everything you were doing and saying, I was starting to think I was right, and I was ready to apologize and try to fix things between us. And then you kissed me in the alley and- forgive me for saying- but that did _not_ feel like you were repulsed. So now I’m kinda at a loss.

“I wasn’t repulsed.” Nick says quietly. Eddie is regarding him carefully. The next sentence is incredibly difficult to say, and in comes out halting and slow. “Actually, last week was… probably the best I’ve ever had. With anyone.” Eddie is trying to keep his expression placid, but a spark of victorious pride has kindles in his eyes.

“I don’t know.” Nick continues. “When I’m with you, it’s like… it’s like there’s this unending hunger inside of me, and the only way to satiate it is by being with you, but I just want more, and more, and I can’t get enough. It scares me because…”

“Because I’m a man?” Eddie breaks in. Nick blinks, looking surprised. He considers.

“Actually,  no.”

“Because I’m a Blutbad, then?”

“No. Not that either. I mean, we’re different, yeah. But… it scares me because I have a girlfriend. A girlfriend that I love. That I have planned to propose to. And every time I kiss you, I forget about her. I forget about how much this will hurt her if she finds out. Because when I touch you, I don’t care about any of that. That’s what scares me. Not some stupid homophobia or racist thing.”

“Technically, it’s speciest.”

“Yeah, well. Whatever it is. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

“You know, it’s possible that it’s a pheromone thing.” Eddie muses aloud.

“Blutbaden have pheromones?” Nick needs to learn to stop being surprised by these things.

“Uh, Yeah.” Eddie’s tone indicates that this should have been obvious. “But humans aren’t supposed to be able to notice them. Maybe because you’re a Grimm …”

“I guess it’s possible.” He isn’t sure how comfortable he is with the idea.

“It’s not like a Ziegevolk though.” Eddie explains, “Blutbaden pheromones don’t control thoughts, and they don’t create feelings where there are none. It’s like… cologne.. It _might_ explain why you actually followed through on your urge to kiss me the other night, but it sure as hell didn’t create it.”

Nick raises his eyebrows.

“So your theory is that I’m cheating on my girlfriend and having mind-blowing sex because _you smell good_?”

Eddie ignores Nick’s skepticism in favor highlighting other aspects of Nick’s statement.

“Mind-blowing, huh?” He takes a step closer, crowding into Nick’s space and plucks the wine glass from his fingers, setting it beside his own abandoned glass. “that sounds very…intense.”

Nick swallows, because Monroe being this close is once again scrambling all sorts of things in his brain.

“Y-y-yeah.” He stutters. “It is. Was.” Eddie looks supremely pleased for some reason. Nick sounds like an idiot, which is only to be expected since he can feel the heat of Eddie’s breath whisper against his ear, raising goosebumps on his arm, and it’s so damn distracting that he’s having difficulty forming coherent thoughts, let alone vocalizing them.

The rational part of Nick’s mind is telling him that he needs to end this, get out of here, go home to Juliette, but the rest of his mind has teamed up with his body, which is on a different wavelength. It’s begging from him to close the space between them and get lost in a blur of lips and tongue and pleasures of the flesh. He clenches the edge of the counter until his knuckles start to turn white, but that just makes him want it more.

“We can’t.” he tells Eddie, even though he knows they will. It’s killing him to know he’s doing this to Juliette- hell, to Eddie and even himself. But not giving in to this right now is going to kill him sooner. It’s utter insanity, but he reaches out his hand, hoping that Eddie doesn’t notice his trembling fingers and touches the folded-down collar of Eddie’s sweater. He rubs it between his fingers, savoring the rough texture of the wool and the warmth radiating from Eddie’s chest. For his part, Eddie remains absolutely still, waiting to see where Nick is taking this. Nick lets go of the counter.

“I have to figure things out with Juliette.” He says honestly, “And I can’t do that if I’m wrapped up in someone else. So this can’t keep happening.” He bites his lip. “Even if I want it to.” And he really, really does. “So…”

“So let’s take tonight.” Eddie suggests quietly. Nick feels a surge of relief at the idea that he doesn’t have to walk away right now.

“Yes.” He breathes, brushing his hand along Nick’s jaw, curling fingertips into his hair as he pulls him down into a kiss. This kiss is slower, more careful than the ones before. He’s savoring the experience, letting the need smolder and burn beneath the surface. He tries to memorize every detail of these moments, because once this is gone, it’s gone forever. Monroe seems to be on the same page because even though his hands have found Nick’s body, they’re just holding him, touching him, not urging his clothes off or trying to hurry the moment.

The feel of Eddie’s tongue sliding sensuously against his own, the way the tension leaves Nick’s shoulders when they touch, replaced with a new, exhilarating tension that tingles through his body, the way that the wine lingers on Eddie’s lips, more intoxicating now than it could ever be in the glass, these are all the details he wants to commit to memory. The feeling when Eddie cups his hand behind Nick’s neck and rubs his thumb over the sharpness of Nick’s jaw, adjusting the angle of the kiss. Nick wants to remember the simplest things that he’s never had before, like the thrill of having to turn his head upward to receive this kiss instead of down, the knowledge that even though this is exquisitely gentle, he can be as rough as he wants without the worry of harming his partner, that in fact he’s the far more vulnerable party here.

Eventually, they end up on the couch in the living room. Eddie sits and tugs at Nick’s hand, which Nick correctly interprets as an invitation to climb into Eddie’s lap, straddling his legs and pushing him back into the cushions with another kiss so tender that he can almost believe that this way, way more than just sex. Nick traces a trail with his lips along Eddie jaw to his ear, grazing the earlobe with his teeth. Eddie gasps and lets his head fall back. Nick continues the exploration along the line of his throat, nipping periodically at the skin there, savoring the hints of salt when he swipes with his tongue across smooth flesh. There’s roughness too, the harsh scrape of whiskers against his lips, and he thinks fleetingly that that’s really just how Eddie is- prickly at times, but tender once you get past his defenses.

Eddie’s hands are digging into Nick’s thighs, and every time he does something Eddie _really_ likes, those hands clench, and heat pools in Nick’s belly. He’s being a tease, holding himself back and not giving Eddie enough of anything to move against. The tension coils between them, a contest to see who can withstand the torturously slow pace, the lingering kisses and gentle touches before need and desire reach the boiling point.

It’s Eddie who finally breaks, reaching with powerful hands to seize Nick’s ass and dragging him down, grinding their bodies together with a sound that borders on a growl. They haven’t removed a single article of clothing yet, but Nick is already on the verge of losing control. Eddie doesn’t let up though, urging Nick to move above him, bucking up against him, driving them both mad with the pleasure.

Nick thinks he comes first, but he isn’t sure because he’s calling out a wordless cry and then he’s falling, flying, and igniting. Eddie slams his hips up once, perhaps twice more, and then he’s shuddering as well, flying apart, his forehead pressed against Nick’s, their panted breath mingling between them. Nick is somewhat amazed at what’s just happened. He’s just come in his pants which is something he’s not been uncontrollably horny enough to do since he was thirteen.

He shifts so that he’s sitting beside Eddie on the couch. He glances surreptitiously at one of the eighteen clocks in the room and realizes with surprise that it’s almost time he should head back home for dinner. The idea seems infinitely less appealing than it did half an hour ago. Eddie follows his glance, and the only response he has in a single word.

“Stay?”

It’s not a demand, not a pressure, just a request. Eddie understands that this has to end, and that this moment could well be that end. Probably should be. So he offers up the request without judgment or expectation. Nick settles himself in closer to Eddie on the couch, aligning them from shoulder to hip.

“Just tonight.” He agrees, relaxing into Eddie’s warmth.

They get cleaned up, order a pizza and when it arrives, they settle in to watch an old movie on the TV in the corner. While Eddie’s paying the delivery guy, Nick sends Juliette a text. _Ended up at one of the guy’s places after the bar. Had a few too many, shouldn’t drive home. Crashing here tonight-see you in the morning. Sorry about dinner._ She texts back a few minutes later. _Okay. But I’m finishing the ice cream. :)_. Nick smiles and turns his phone off.

It’s nice watching a movie with Eddie. He’s supremely aware of some of the little things- the steady  rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips move slightly in time with his favorite lines of dialogue, the strength of the arm that rests on the back of the sofa, curving around just enough that his fingers graze Nick’s shoulder.

Nick rests his hand on Eddie’s thigh. Absently, he traces the seam of Eddie’s jeans along the inside of the other man’s leg. It’s somewhat of a soothing motion, and he doesn’t even register he’s doing it until he catches Eddie smiling at him bemusedly. He smiles back, but doesn’t stop because it’s occurred to him that this is probably having the opposite of a soothing effect on Eddie. He lets his hand begin to inch systematically upward every few strokes, becoming more and more distracting. A few minutes  later, Eddie pauses the movie and fixes him with a _look_.

“You’re not watching the movie, are you.” He accuses mildly.

“Sure I am.” Nick says innocently, nodding toward the screen, “That guy there is Mr. Smith. He’s going to Washington.”

“He’s been _in_ Washington for the past fifteen minutes.” Eddie tell him dryly. “Come on.” He stands, reaching out his hand for Nick to take and leads him to the stairs.  Nick marvels at how elegant Eddie’s hands are, considering that they have the power to tear a man limb from limb. He follows Eddie upstairs, thinking about how he wants to press Eddie’s hand to his lips, wants to draw a finger between his lips and lick it and suck it like Eddie did to him last week. Once they reach the landing he does just that, watching Eddie’s eyes darken and change as he considers the parallels to having Nick’s warm, wet mouth and inquisitive tongue working on other parts of his anatomy.

“Naked. Now.” Eddie growls, and Nick is eager to comply. His hands fly to the collar of his shirt, undoing the buttons as quickly as possible, letting it drop to the floor. Eddie pulls his shirt and sweater over his head in one smooth movement, never taking his eyes off of Nick. Nick’s t-shirt is next to go, revealing pale skin liberally sprinkled with straight black hair. As Nick bends to remove his boots, Eddie undoes his jeans, allowing him to stroke himself while he watches.

Nick straightens to see the effect he’s having on Eddie, how unabashedly aroused the other man is watching Nick strip. The knowledge that _he_ is responsible for this reaction is empowering. Boldly he meets Nick’s eyes, the color of melted chocolate and stares his down. One hand reaches up to tweak his own nipple, the other dropping to the waistband of his jeans. He teases the denim down his hips and stands for a moment in his boxer briefs, letting Monroe get a good visual before casually sliding them off his hips and letting them drop to the floor. Only then does he reach for himself, mimicking Eddie’s casual grip.

“Slower” Eddie directs him, and Nick complies. “Good. Now kneel on the bed. Face me.” He waits a moment. “Good. Now stop touching yourself.” This command is harder to follow, but when Nick does as Eddie says, he actually gets even harder. He realizes that while he’s let women take control in the bedroom plenty of times in the past, he’s only actually been playing at submission. This is the real thing, making himself vulnerable to someone who really has the ability to overpower him. This granting of control to another, trusting him so deeply is what true submission is. He finds it exhilarating.

Eddie takes his time removing the rest of his clothing, making Nick wait, letting the anticipation build. By the time Eddie stalks to the bed, gloriously naked, cock flushed and eyes feral, Nick is practically whimpering with need. He expects Eddie to kiss him, but he doesn’t expect the way Eddie fists his hand in Nick’s hair and forces his head back or the way that Eddie ravishes him with a series of scorching, searing kisses. It’s like Eddie is trying to claim his soul, and Nick would gladly offer it to him on a silver platter.

Nick knows how well their bodies fit together when clothed. He’s astonished to learn how much better it is when they’re both naked. Every point where their bodies touch seems to be an explosion of nerve endings, every place where Eddie’s fingers trail over him, down his back, across his ribs, down to his hips becomes a trail of fire that ignites but doesn’t burn.

The best part though is when their cocks touch for the first time, and then Eddie reaches down, fitting both of them in his hand.  Nick wants thrust into his hand, but Eddie tells him to wait, and he listens, even though every instinct is telling him to move. Eddie adds some lube and begins working them both, and Nick is just about ready to die of bliss. His hips begin to twitch- he can’t help himself- and before long he’s thrusting, bracing himself with his own hand on Eddie’s shoulder. Fireworks are flashing behind his eyelids and he’s panting for release, but he does everything he can to prolong the ecstasy.

Not that Eddie makes it easy. His other hand is everywhere, touching Nick’s neck, his chest, teasing his nipples until they’re hard enough to cut glass, skimming his belly and the base of his cock.  He teases the line that runs from the top of Nick’s hip to his inner thigh, causing Nick to buck wildly, which has the added benefit of driving his cock frantically against Eddie’s. The Blutbad grins and does it again for good measure. That hand finds the small of his back, skims the top of his ass, and glides over a cheek, hinting at the world of potential that still exists.

With exquisite gentleness, he cups Nick’s balls and his fingertips press and rub against the patch of skin behind them. Nick moans with each press, first wordless cries and then desperate choked pleas of “yes…yes, please, more, _Eddie_.”

“Open when your eyes,” Eddie tells him, sounding like he too is on the verge of breaking, “I want to watch you.” With herculean effort Nick obeys, drags his eyes open and locks eyes with Monroe.

“Now, Nick.” he urges, and Nick’s soaring, they both are, and this may be the most powerful orgasm he’s had yet. They collapse together on the bed, exhausted, limbs tangled together, the sweat cooling on their skin as they try to regain their breath.

It would be so easy to drift off to sleep like this, sated and content and so entwined that it’s not entirely apparent where one of them leaves off and the other begins. They’ll regret it later if they don’t clean up though and so Nick takes the initiative, nudging  his partner’s jaw with his nose.

“Hey Monroe.” Monroe makes a contented sound. “We should clean up. Where’s your shower?” Eddie cracks an eye but doesn’t say anything. “You could scrub my back.” Nick offers.

Eddie likes Nick like this, Eddie’s scent all over him, nearly overpowering Nick’s own natural one, thoroughly debauched with swollen lips, tousled hair and flushed skin. One the other hand, he can see some distinct advantages to showering with Nick- slick wet bodies sliding together, steam and heat surrounding them in the close space… his brain is completely on board with the idea, charging ahead, making promises his body hasn’t recovered enough yet to keep. Still, he’s more than willing to get to his feet and lead Nick to the shower, turning the taps to get the perfect water temperature.

Nick steps in behind him, closing the door and encapsulating them in a world of glass and tile. He wraps his arm around Eddie’s waist, snugging them together and lets the rivulets of water streaming down Eddie’s chest run across his hand. Nick is soft because not even being a young, virile monster hunter can make him recover _that_ quickly for another round. Eddie isn’t remotely disappointed though, because the feel of this soft flesh pressed against him so intimately holds its own kind of eroticism.

He takes the washcloth and soap, working up a lather before he turns. He runs the washcloth over Nick’s chest, up to his shoulders and down to his abdomen and hips slow enough to be sensual but not teasing, then kneels to reach his thighs, and the more intimate parts of him before continuing down his legs. Nick dances a little when the cloth reaches the back of his knee, claiming that it tickles, and Eddie can’t help but to exploit that a couple more times before moving on to Nick’s calves and feet. When he’s done he makes Nick turn around and begins working back up.

He loves touching Nick, likes watching the subtle ways his facial expressions shift when he is enjoying something or aroused- even puzzled or angered by it. His body is practically an alter that Eddie could worship upon, admiring every perfection and imperfection alike. Touching Nick has a calming effect on him that’s unlike anything else. Nick keeps him grounded, safe, present in his own head. Even when he’s at his most vulnerable, the least in control of himself, the wolf and his more brutal instincts don’t come tearing through, shredding him from the inside out and leaving him scarred. It’s not that Nick is the closest to salvation that he’s ever come, because making any person his salvation is a sure ticket back to ripping and killing and death and insanity. It’s that Nick is the closest thing he’s ever felt to peace.

As he ponders this, Eddie sweeps the soapy cloth over the curve of Nick’s ass. If he pays particular attention here, it’s due to his wolf instincts and the fact that he has yet to give Nick’s posterior the attention it deserves. He’s held back so far because they he somehow knows that asking that much of Nick would be too much too soon, and they only have this one night. There are no second chances. Still, he can’t let such a delectable ass go ignored, so he spends a few extra moments here, sliding his hands over soap-slicked skin, squeezing, massaging, and letting his soapy fingers delve into the valley between the smooth cheeks for just a few seconds before resuming his progress with the wash cloth. He scrubs Nick’s back as promised, counting the vertebrae of Nick’s spine beneath his hands. When he finishes, Nick steps under the spray, letting the water sluice the suds away and race down his limbs, drawing the planes of his body into a sort of elaborate waterfall. Then he plucks the wash cloth from Eddie’s hand, lathers it up once more, and says, “My turn.”

If Heaven feel like anything, Eddie decides, it might be this. In Nick’s hands, the texture of the washcloth takes on soothing characteristics of unparalleled proportions. Nick is thorough, but gentle. Eddie’s far from inexperienced, but he’s never had anyone touch him quite like this before, in a manner that’s so casually and easily intimate.  It doesn’t seem like this could get any better, but the faint woodsy scent of his shampoo fills the air, distinctive because it’s an organic ethically sourced one he buys specifically because it doesn’t contain the harsh chemical scents that sting his sensitive nose and are found in most commercial shampoos. Nick reaches up to suds it into his hair, massaging his scalp as he does so.  Eddie feels his eyes rolling backward in ecstasy and his wolf is right there with him, as overjoyed as a puppy getting a good scratch behind the ears.

 By the time they step out of the shower, they’re both half hard again, although neither of them truly has enough energy or stamina to try for a third round. Instead, they dry off, and Nick follows Monroe back to the bed, crawling in beside him. It’s odd for Nick because of how normal and right it feels to crawl into Eddie’s bed, to wrap himself in Eddie’s arms, and to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. They don’t fall asleep immediately, but instead lie awake in the dark, talking about inconsequential things. Nick finally drifts off to sleep with his arm across Eddie’s ribs and Eddie’s hand resting on his hip.

 

He wakes in the dark of the morning. The grey-blue light that filters in through the windows is just enough for him to make out the shapes of the furniture in the gloom. He lies there several minutes, cocooned in the warmth of blankets and the heat of his Blutbad as the room grown brighter by increments and the first pink hint of dawn tinges the sky. He’s like Cinderella at the ball. His time is up, he has to go, but he’s reluctant to do so. He doesn’t want this to be like last time, sneaking out, running away. So he stays until Eddie stirs beside him and whispers a bleary eyed, “Good morning.” And when this is followed by Eddie’s lips on his shoulder and the hand around Nick’s waist tracing patterns below his belly button, Nick decides to stay a few minutes more. He turns, bringing his lips to meet Monroe’s even as his hand seeks a different target.

Monroe is half hard already, and a few strokes are all it takes to bring him to full attention. Feeling Eddie lengthen and harden in his grasp makes Nick respond as well, so when Eddie brings his hand to reciprocate, he finds Nick ready and eager for him.

They work each other torturously slowly, matching pace and echoing touch. Neither one of them speaks, or even wants to break the silence of the dawn with sound. Release is inevitable, a current that grows stronger and stronger until it is dragged from the body. Eddie is first to succumb, shuddering as he spills onto the sheets, but never faltering in Nick’s pleasure. Nick follows breathlessly a few minutes later, his head bowed into Monroe’s chest. It’s several moments before he stirs because he doesn’t want to face this, doesn’t want to step out of this bed, out of Eddie’s arms and never come back, never feel this again. Day has dawned, and in the light of it he can’t pretend any longer. He can’t pretend that he doesn’t have a normal life to return to, but neither can he pretend that that normal life with Juliette is all he desires.

As the room brightens, a heaviness descends, the knowledge that their time has expired. The few minutes that it takes Nick to dress and get ready to go is time borrowed from the world beyond Monroe’s stained-glass door. Eddie joins him at that door, a pair of plaid sleep pants preserving his modesty. Pausing in the open door, Nick stumbles over what to say.

“Eddie, I…I… Thank you.” He finishes haltingly. “For Everything. I…”

“I get it,” Eddie tells him reassuringly, “Things are complicated. You’re, um… welcome here any time, though.” He’s never made that invitation to anyone before, although Nick can’t possibly realize that. Nick nods and turns away. He stops abruptly at the bottom of the porch stairs, hesitates, and then turns around and comes back. Wordlessly, he takes Eddie’s face in his hands and kisses him thoroughly. It’s a kiss that says everything the Grimm can’t bring himself to say. Goodbye, I’m sorry, I want you, I wish things were different and maybe, buried under everything else, even a hint of I love you.

Then he’s gone again, striding out to the road, keys in hand. This time, he doesn’t look back.

 


End file.
